'Neil Young Journeys' review: Third time no charm as musician reteams with Jonathan Demme

Hey hey, my my - rock and roll will never die. But boy, "Neil Young Journeys" is awfully tired.

Neil Young performs in an image from director Jonathan Demme's documentary 'Neil Young Journeys.'

The idea of this latest concert film - the third of Young's to be filmed by the fine director Jonathan Demme - is that the veteran musician is going to take us on a voyage, literal and figurative, through his life. He journeys, and we journey with him. But it's not much of a trip.

It starts off well, at least, in May of 2011, with Young getting behind the wheel of a cherry 1956 Crown Victoria. The road trip will begin in his old hometown of Omemee, Ontario and end in Toronto's venerable Massey Hall, where Young is to give a one-man show.

Except the voyage - which Demme intercuts, randomly, with the live performance - isn't much of anything. Young shares a few memories of childhood, and points out where people used to live. A lot of bland rural highway slips slowly past the windows. It's like driving around with a dull, albeit particularly scruffy uncle.

The concert footage is better. Demme is an old hand at this; he made one of the best concert films, "Stop Making Sense," and his general approach here is to use carefully planned, mostly static shots (unlike too many music docs, which usually feature some burly cameraman wandering around the stage in a crouch).

Not all of those shots work - Demme is too fond of a tiny camera on the microphone stand, which mostly provides closeups of Young's grizzled chin, and, towards the end, a big smear of spittle - but at least they're all thought through, with rich color and careful lighting.

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The bulk of the songs are from his 2010 album, "Le Noise" and, to put it charitably, aren't among his most memorable. The older numbers are mostly rushed through."Down by the River" is cut way down from its original nine minutes (and loses its iconic, madly minimalist guitar solo); the stinging chords of "Ohio" eventually devolve into a muddy jangle.

And how could Young leave out "Cinnamon Girl"? Or "Like a Hurricane"? And why is "Helpless," which Young did perform that night, only heard, and that only over the closing credits?

There are some high points. "After the Gold Rush" gets an interesting re-imagining, courtesy of an antique organ; the unreleased song "Leia" is a sweet salute to childlike wonder. And it is inspiring to see Young still thrashing away, nearly 50 years into his career.

But what's the point of this particular project? Why - apart from any marketing concerns - did either artist feel it was essential to capture this concert on film?

At the end of his final encore, "Walk With Me" - another nod to the supposed theme - Young leaves his guitar next to a speaker, howling feedback, and simply walks offstage. It's meant, I suppose, as a cleverly open ending for Young's continuing journey.

Instead it seems like an unintended metaphor for the film itself - messy and meandering, and rather reluctant to do any really hard work.